Up, Up and Away
by Greenstuff
Summary: Crack!Fic. AU. Something isn't quite right at Hogwarts. Acts of vandalism keep cropping up out of nowhere, and Snape is acting very oddly. With Albus in the hospital wing after he mistook an Exploding Snazzbomb for a sweet, Minerva is left dealing with the insanity all by herself. There are some days she really wished she had never agreed to be Deputy Headmistress.
1. Part I: Something's Rotten

**Up, Up and Away **

**A/N:** _This fic was inspired by a prompt from Kittyknighton. I've set it during Cassandra Claire's A Lot to Be Upset About, one of my enduring favourites from the days when I lived and breathed Harry Potter. It's not necessary to have read her fic to follow this one, but if you've read it, you can play a little game of spot-the-homage while you read. _

**Part 1: Something's Rotten in the Halls of Hogwarts **

"I'm worried about Mister Potter."

"Harry?" Albus smeared an unhealthy dollop of Devonshire cream over the centimeter thick strawberry jelly already coating his ginger scone.

"No, the _other_ Mister Potter." Minerva snapped. Albus had been in the infirmary for three days and she was already at her wits end. Her Gryffindors needed her. A week ago she'd walked in on Ginevra Weasley doing a strip tease in the third floor stairwell and yesterday someone, though no one seemed to know who, had burnt down the Quidditch shed. And instead of being there to guide and discipline her charges, she'd been tried up with board meetings and so much paperwork she was beginning to wonder if Albus hadn't sent himself the Exploding Snazzbomb just to get a little holiday. The contented smile on his face as he smeared another bite of scone with jelly and cream did not ease her suspicions.

"What's wrong with Harry?" Albus' blue eyes held concern despite his blasé tone and continued munching of scones.

"He seems to be in…" She paused for a moment, trying to find the right words to describe Harry's change in temperament since the previous year. "…a bit of a strop."

Albus washed down the last bite of scone with a swig of tea. "Go easy on Harry, Minerva, he's got a lot to be upset about."

Minerva ground her teeth together. Certainly she felt for Harry. The year hadn't been easy on any of them, but wanted-killer-godfather or not, there was no excuse for the boy's behaviour. "Thank you for your help," she said stiffly, brushing imaginary specks of dust off the front of her robes as she stood. "When do you expect you'll be back?"

"Poppy assures me I'll be good as new by Christmas." He said cheerily.

Minerva nodded, afraid to open her mouth because of what might pour out of it. _Two months! She might have to do this for TWO MORE WEEKS?! _ She turned sharply and practically fled to the safety of the hallway.

And almost ran right over Severus Snape.

"Headmistress." He inclined his head politely, stepping aside to let her pass.

Minerva eyed him suspiciously. There was something profoundly unsettling about the deference Severus had been showing her of late. It must be the beginnings Cruciatus madness, that was really the only explanation. She inhaled deeply through her nose and immediately wished she hadn't. It smelled like something had died in the corridor many, many days ago and been rotting there ever since, which of course was impossible. _Peeves_! she thought angrily. Not even the Bloody Baron seemed to be able to keep the poltergeist in control these days. "He's just finished his breakfast," she said to Severus in a strangled voice.

The potions master grimaced, although it may have been a smile, and disappeared into the infirmary.

Minerva walked as quickly as she could, holding her breath until she was three corridors away and promptly collapsing against the wall panting in a decidedly undignified manner. Thankfully the students were still in class so no one was there to witness the deputy headmistress standing outside of Flitwick's classroom gasping for air like a fat kid on a treadmill. She didn't notice the paint, lurid yellow and still dripping wet, until she pulled away from the wall and it seemed to hold on to her robes for a moment. A sinking feeling in her stomach, Minerva turned around.

Her mouth dropped open, though in shock, horror, or awe she couldn't have said. In letters as tall as she was someone had painted the words FUCK THE DARK LORD.

x x x

"Albus!"

"Shhh!" Poppy glowered at the deputy headmistress. "He's asleep." She whispered harshly.

"Well wake him up." Minerva snapped. "This is urgent."

Grumbling under her breath the medi-witch did as commanded. "Sir, Professor McGonagall is here to speak with you." She said in a soft mothering sort of voice. When Albus' eyes snapped open, Poppy smiled down at him. "Here, drink this." She handed him a vial of bright pink potion that smelled strongly of strawberries.

Minerva tapped her toe impatiently. "He's _fine_ Poppy, give us a moment, will you?"

"He needs his rest." Poppy replied icily. "I'll be back in ten minutes with his next dose." Giving Albus one last motherly smile, she turned and disappeared into her office.

"Minerva, so good of you to stop by."

"Albus—"

"Lemon drop?" Albus produced an oval shaped yellow candy from Merlin knew where and held it out.

"Albus!" Minerva took the candy from force of habit, but thankfully wasn't distracted enough to put it in her mouth. "The castle is out of control!"

"Certainly not, Minerva. Why Severus was just telling me of the marvelous progress our Mr. Malfoy is making under his special tutelage, and I haven't heard such enthusiasm for Quidditch in a decade as I did the other day. You're doing a marvelous job."

"The students were talking about Quidditch because someone lit the equipment shed on fire." Minerva said through clenched teeth, "And today someone vandalized the hall outside the Charms classroom."

"Surely they were just sharing their creativity."

"Albus, they wrote 'Fuck the Dark Lord' in yellow paint at least two meters tall."

"Well, the profanity is regrettable, I'll admit, but come now Minerva, we really can't fault the sentiment, can we?"

"Th-the _sentiment_?!" Minerva clenched both hands into tight fists and took a long slow breath in a desperate attempt to control the sudden urge to strangle the headmaster with his own beard. "Albus, the students are out of control. We need to _do_ something."

"This is a difficult time for them. Perhaps we should give the students something to look forward to besides exams, relieve some of the tension."

"Something to look forward…?"

"Yes! I think it's the perfect solution. We'll have a Yule Ball. A fun way for the children to let out their youthful exuberance."

"You can't be serious!"

"You can announce it tonight at dinner so the children can shop for dress robes this weekend in Hogsmeade…"

The Headmaster continued to prattle on about how in his days at Hogwarts there had been a Yule ball every other Christmas, but Minerva tuned him out. A pounding had started in her temples. She needed out, she needed air. "Certainly Albus, thank you." She muttered, turning on her heels and nearly running from the hospital wing.

Between corralling her Gryffindors, who seemed to grow more rambunctious by the semester (_Thank Merlin Molly Weasley had finally stopped reproducing_), and her duties as Deputy Headmistress and Transfigurations Master, Minerva rarely had five minutes to herself from September to June. When she did, she liked to get as far away from the castle as possible, in the vain hope that if she was out of ear shot somehow she could make five minutes into ten or even fifteen. It never worked. She invariably spent three of her five minutes trying to find a suitable hiding place and the remaining two worrying that someone would ferret her out.

Today she didn't bother to try and think about a good place to hide, in fact she wasn't thinking much at all as her legs carried her at breakneck speeds through the corridors and out into the crisp autumn air. There was a thin dusting of snow on the ground and she cast a quick charm on her boots to keep them dry without missing a step. It wasn't until she rounded the crest of a hill and the great lake came into view that she slowed.

There was someone standing on the shore. Wait… no… She took a few steps, squinting her aging eyes against the unusually bright afternoon, not on the shore.. the person was standing _in_ the lake. Up to his or her knees in frigid lake water, black robes billowing out, looking every bit like a parachute just hitting the ground. A few more steps, and Minerva came to a dead stop. The figure turned just enough that she caught a glimpse of sallow skin, black eyes and an unmistakable hooked nose. _Severus Snape?_ _What the blazes is he doing?_

It was an excellent question. By all appearances, Severus could have been conducting an orchestra. Except there were no musicians and his timing was atrocious. Not to mention the utter lunacy of standing in a freezing cold lake when there were perfectly good spells to keep him above the surface of the water. Minerva almost turned away, her day was strange enough without investigating this latest sign of lunacy from the Potions Master. She really needed to have a chat with Albus about the poor boy. Enough was enough! War or no war, there came a point where whatever information Severus was retrieving from his monthly meetings was tainted by the madness he displayed in between. No point in letting him suffer yet another bought of Cruciatus when he was mad as a hatter and only someone equally mad would listen to his advice… although come to think of it, Albus had been looking rather mad of late.

Sucking in a lungful of cold air and putting on her best supportive, non-threatening facial expression, Minerva walked steadily towards the lake. She could hear what sounded like children screaming and shot a glance towards the Quidditch pitch, making a mental note to return to the castle that way. Whatever troublemakers were flying when they should be in class would come to regret it.

She was still a good twenty meters away when she realized the other worldly high pitched squealing she had attributed to childish screams echoing off the woods and castle walls were actually coming from the Potions Master's open mouth. Her steps slowed and almost without conscious thought she turned and walked back the way she'd come. Something needed to be done about Severus Snape… just maybe not right this moment.


	2. Part II: A Squid By Any Other Name

**Part 2: A Squid by Any Other Name is Just as Slimy**

Staff meetings were evil.

Unfortunately, they were one of those unavoidable evils that came part and parcel with the headmistress gig. And besides, the throbbing at her temples was never going to let up unless some of the staff took some of the burden. One woman, even an extremely powerful witch could not be everywhere at once. So, here she was, pushing open the door to the staff room a ten to two on a Hogsmeade Saturday when all of them would rather be in the town quietly getting pissed on single malt fire whiskey, bracing herself for a sea of resentment.

What she had not braced herself for was an almost empty room.

"Where is everyone?" She snapped.

Severus looked up from _Transfigurations Quarterly_ _Special Edition 4: Animagi_. "Pomona had homesick children to coddle, Fillius and Xiomara are supervising students in Hogsmeade, Argus is still trying to clean the third floor corridor, Poppy can't leave Albus alone," Severus ticked each professor off on a long, spidery finger, "Hagrid can't fit through the doors, and Sybil says she already foresaw this meeting last Thursday and that there is no point in her attending twice."

"Bloody ingrates," Minerva muttered, slumping into a chair.

"Tea?"

"Thank you." She took the proffered cup and took a deep swig savouring the first hot cup of tea she'd managed to obtain since Albus' unfortunate accident. It really was inhumane to be kept so busy she couldn't take a sip of tea without someone pestering her about some crisis. Did she really need to know the very second the Quidditch shed caught fire?

As the delicious warm tea curled in her belly, Minerva studied the man across from her. He looked so sane today; his black hair was as greasy as ever but he had obviously brushed it and his black robes were as pristinely buttoned to the collar as always. Looking at him sitting there, flipping through a Transfigurations periodical she could almost believe she imagined the scene the day before. Certainly this dour, intelligent professor wouldn't spend his free period standing in the great lake squealing like a stuck pig in what she could only guess was an attempt to commune with nature. No, she took another sip of tea, still watching her colleague as he turned the page and continued reading.

_Wait… a transfigurations periodical? _She licked her lower lip nervously. Severus hated transfigurations. As a student it had been by far his worst subject and she'd heard enough of his rants about foolish wand waving to know his attitude towards her specialty hadn't improved much in the intervening decades.

Wishing there was anyone else in the castle on whom she could foist this responsibility, Minerva cleared her throat.

Severus looked up, a slightly dazed look in his eyes as if he'd forgotten she was there.

"Is everything alright, Severus?" She asked tentatively.

"Apart from the obvious." He replied with an elegant shrug, his eyes already returning to the article before him.

Minerva narrowed her eyes, the hairs at the back of her neck prickling with unease. "The obvious?"

Severus set down the periodical and fixed his dark eyes on her face. His brow was slightly furrowed and it she hadn't know better she would have called the expression on his face concern. "You-know-who terrorising the country, students vandalizing the hallways, Quidditch sheds combusting, and someone mailing the headmaster Exploding Snazzbombs…" He trailed off, one eyebrow cocked in a wordless question.

"Of course." Minerva smiled tightly a red hot flush creeping up her throat. "But apart from the obvious?"

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Is there something you needed, Minerva?"

"No, nothing."

"Hmm." Severus's hum was even more skeptical than his cocked eyebrow, but he picked up the periodical again and continued reading.

"Only…"

With a sigh he slapped the periodical down on the table top.

"I- if…" Minerva stammered, embarrassment flooding her entire body and making her want to flee. "With your _other_ duties... if you… that is to say I would understand… it would be alright if…"

"Is there an unwritten rule that all Headmasters must be vague and tiresome?" He snapped. "Get to the point."

"Do you need any additional help with your duties?" The words tumbled out faster than her dignity was comfortable with, but at least they were out.

"Have there been complaints about my performance?"

"Apart from the obvious?"

Severus smirked. "Of course."

"No." Minerva poured herself a second cup of tea, focusing on adding milk and sugar as she added, "You just don't seem like yourself these last few days."

Severus hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose I have changed." He said with a wistful smile.

That smile was more disturbing than anything else she had ever seen from her colleague. Severus Snape did not smile, and he certainly did not ever smile _wistfully_. Minerva swallowed a sudden lump of fear, as with a sudden clarity she realized she was sitting across from the only man in the wizarding world who could kill the entire Order and all the students of Hogwarts and get away with it. And he was completely barmy. "Oh?" she choked out to cover the clatter of the spoon against her cup as her hands began to tremble.

Severus regarded her for nearly a minute, his beady black eyes unwavering, before he broke the silence. "Whoever said 'less is more' is an idiot."

That was not what she had expected. Actually.. now that words had come from his mouth she wasn't sure exactly what she _had_ expected. After all, if Severus Snape was planning to murder the entire population of Wizarding Britain he would hardly tell her about it before hand, even if he wanted her to know. He wasn't a Hufflepuff. "I.. er.. suppose?" She said doubtfully. "Perhaps not for everything, however." _Like first year term papers… or dead bodies._

"More is _more_, better."

Minerva tittered nervously.

"Why settle for two when you can have.. ten?"

"That's not exactly…"

"When you are in your animagus form, for instance. You have all the mental faculties of a human, but all the sensual benefits of a cat."

"Err…" Minerva looked around the staff room, hoping against hope another staff member would appear to save her from what was quickly becoming an uncomfortable conversation. Especially since she was starting to suspect the faint scent of death that had been cropping up around the castle was in fact emanating from the potions master himself.

"A cephalopod has tentacles..." Snape continued dreamily.

Minerva McGonagall was not head of Gryffindor for nothing. Gathering her courage around her like a shield of armour she met his gaze straight on and said, "Perhaps if we put this discussion into context I might be able to form an opinion one way or another." Alright, so it wasn't the bravest approach… But she comforted herself by saying it was subtle and she was dealing with a true Slytherin.

Although the head of the snake pit certainly wasn't working his subtlety muscles too hard these days. He smiled that same eerie, wistful smile and poured them each another cup of tea. "I want to become an animagus."

Minerva's freshly topped up cup of tea slipped from her fingers and landed on the table top sending a river of piping hot liquid down onto her lap. "Of for Circe's sake." She muttered standing and holding her robes out so it wouldn't scald her skin. She shot Severus an apologetic smile. "Can we continue this later?"

She didn't wait for his reply. This was her chance to escape and she was damn well going to take it.

.

.

.

Minerva peered up at the ceiling above her head, wishing for the first time she had said yes when Filius wanted to pain a mural above it. At least then she would have chubby cherubs to keep her company in the wee hours of this sleepless night. The generous tipple of brandy that usually sent her straight into Hypnos' waiting arms had tonight added a fuzzy quality to her thoughts, blending fantasy and reality until anything seemed possible. Or, perhaps this was all a vivid dream. Yes, Minerva thought firmly, flipping over for the umpteenth time in an attempt to find sleep, she was dreaming, that was it.

She sat up, swinging her legs out of bed. It was almost four am, she may as well get an early start on the day. Anything to keep her brain from repeating the thought her sleep-deprived, brandy-addled brain had been stuck on for the last six hours: Severus Snape was into tentacles and the sensual side of her cat form... Her fingers slipped a little on the lid of the brandy bottle. This day was going to have to start with a stiff drink.

Maybe two stiff drinks.

* * *

**A/N: **_There will probably be one final chapter to bring Minerva's torment to a close._


End file.
